The Return
by blackstrawberries
Summary: Everything's all right... Isn't it? Lucius Malfoy has spent his time in Azkaban plotting the return of the Death Eaters and the rise of Dark Magic once again. Will Harry Potter be enough to stop him, this time?


**Chapter One - The Return**

"A Potter, are you?" said a snide voice. "Dad's told me all about you."

Albus looked up. "Hello, Malfoy."

"Don't bother with the formalities." Scorpius looked the new boy up and down, his piercing gray eyes searching. "Don't fancy myself making friends with you lot."

Rose looked on the verge of tears as Malfoy slammed the compartment door shut and whisked himself away.

"Don't think about him too much, Rose," James said, in the tone of someone who had dealt with this before. "Little git."

"Just like his father, innit?" Albus said idly. "It's okay, Rose. Dad told me all about the Malfoys. They aren't as bad as they seem… or, at least, the father isn't…"

Rose nodded, solemn. "Do you expect we'll be at Hogwarts soon?"

James snorted. "It's been only an hour, Rose. Speaking of which, now that I've finished shepherding you lot…" He surveyed the small compartment. Rose and Albus were sitting beside each other tightly, Rose with her arms wrapped around Edith, her small white owl. On the other side sat Nymphadora, a small, mousy girl with a wave of black hair - Luna's daughter, and Frank, Neville's son - he had his father's round face and his mother's wide blue eyes.

"I expect you don't require my services any longer," James said with a flourish. "As much as I _hate _to part ways…." He departed the compartment dramatically.

* * *

"My Lord," Lucius whispered in reverence.

His time in Azkaban had left him emaciated and slightly shabby - his robes were much too baggy and his shoes no longer shined. His years were numbered in the lines on his face, the weariness of his eyes. But the worship in his eyes was unmistakable, glimmering at the sight of the brand-new portrait he had commissioned.

"Lucius," the extremely pale figure answered. "Step forward, into the light."

Lucius obliged, the fire illuminating the shadows in his face. "Yes, my Lord?"

"It has been… how long? Nineteen years." Voldemort did not smile. "I commend you, Lucius, for having a portrait made so… _ah_… _quickly_…"

"My Lord," Lucius hastened, "you understand, surely…. I have been shackled in Azkaban for so long…"

"With no attempts made to escape," Voldemort said idly. "I see. There is no reason to fear me, Lucius. There is nothing I can do from this canvas."

Lucius nodded, sobering.

"Yet, you can take my direction," the portrait said quietly. "Harry Potter is still alive, I take it?"

"Y-Yes, my Lord, and well. Three children, two at Hogwarts…"

"I believe I did not inquire into the whereabouts of his progeny," Voldemort said coldly. "What is Harry Potter's occupation?"

"An Auror," Lucius murmured.

"Naturally. Takes after his father." Voldemort stroked his snake, who had slithered into the painting beside him. "And Draco?"

"D-Draco, my Lord?"

"Yes, Lucius, your son," Voldemort said impatiently. "I take it you remember him."

"He is well. Married, with a son. Works in the Department of Magical Transportation, Portkey office," Lucius answered.

"Now that I am sure of Harry Potter's health," Voldemort whispered, "here is what I require you to do…."

* * *

"Horrid night for patrolling London," Harry spluttered.

He had just Apparated into the small, bright kitchen of their Hogsmeade home, soaked through with rainwater. Ginny rushed toward him, bearing a towel.

"Are you a wizard or aren't you?" she scolded. "_Impervius_, remember that?"

"Well, I can't exactly cast a spell on myself in the middle of all those Muggles…" Harry shook his head. "It's nice to see you, dear. D'you think Albus…"

"He'll be _fine_, Harry, he's with McGonagall - Kingsley's there, as well, just to oversee things… He knows how you worry."

Just then, a small, redheaded girl tumbled toward her father.

"Daddy! Daddy!" she cried, looking up at him with adoration. "Did you catch the bad guys?"

Harry opened his mouth to answer, but Ginny nudged his upper arm sharply.

He looked instinctively at the fireplace, which had turned a violent shade of green. The next second, Ron was in their parlor, accompanied by Hermione, who looked very flustered, and Hugo, who clutched at his mother's cloak.

"What a pleasant…" Ginny began, but Ron held up a hand to silence her.

"He's coming," Hermione stammered. "L-Lucius Malfoy."

The four sat in a stunned silence for several moments. Hugo and Lily skipped off to play with Lily's toys, the newest a toy Firebolt 2000.

"What d'you mean, he's _coming_? He's in Azkaban, isn't he?" Ginny whispered.

"Released," Harry said in a hollow voice. "Yesterday. Didn't think it mattered, what with Voldemort gone…"

"Yes, but there are ways to communicate with the dead, aren't there?" Hermione said. "The portrait of Dumbledore in the headmistress' office, for instance."

"Sure Voldemort hasn't made himself a ghost?" Ron interjected.

"No, you would've seen it if he'd chosen that path," Hermione said swiftly, "I read about it last week, actually. Never mind that, we received a tip-off from Kingsley to warn you two, he was afraid to contact you directly in case Malfoy was watching…"

"Point being, you need to take Lily and _go_. Now. Malfoy's coming any second, he dropped by at the Ministry and left a message for Draco, it was intercepted and… Kingsley says Malfoy's ready to get revenge, Harry. It's not safe. The letter said Lucius was acting on Voldemort's orders." Ron gestured to Hermione's small handbag. "We've packed our things. Hermione's booked a place in Scotland for us. Let's get going."

"Ginny, Hermione, pack our things, will you?" Harry asked quietly. The women obliged, rushing up the stairs. "I've got to write a letter to our sons."

* * *

_Albus and James,_

_ We've gone into hiding. No details yet. Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron with us. Don't write back. You're safe at Hogwarts where McGonagall is. We love you._

_ Dad_

Albus ran down the Gryffindor table quickly, abandoning his half-eaten porridge, and flapped the brief letter in James's face. "James, James, _look_."

James snatched the letter and scanned it quickly, his eyes widening with every word. "What does this even _mean_? Who are they hiding from?"

"I don't know," Albus said bracingly.

"Well, it's obvious, isn't it?" Teddy said contemptuously, his arm casually slung around Victoire Weasley. "Don't you know who's been released from Azkaban only two days ago?"

"Lucius Malfoy, isn't it?" Victoire murmured.

"_Malfoy_?" Albus wondered, glancing at the Slytherin table. "That vile Scorpius's granddad, then?"

"Duh. Malfoy never killed anyone himself, so he got off by the skin of his teeth…. Probably got together with the rest of his cronies and plotted to take down your dad, by the looks of it."

"Class schedules, class schedules!" Professor Wellington, the formidable Transfiguration professor, called. She tapped pieces of parchment with her wand and distributed them to everyone from the eager first-years to the bored-looking seventh years.

"We can talk about this later," Teddy muttered, turning to kiss Victoire.

"No public displays of affection in the Great Hall!" Wellington scolded, casually flicking her wand. With a bang, Teddy and Victoire were broken apart as onlookers laughed.

Albus rushed back to his seat, scarfing down what remained of his breakfast as Wellington approached.

"We've got Transfiguration first," Frank groaned. "Then Potions with Nott, _then _Herbology. That should be fun," Frank grunted, "Herbology with my _dad_."

Albus didn't say anything - he would've given anything for his dad to be there, to have watched as Albus proudly took a seat at the Gryffindor table….

He finished his breakfast and the four - Albus, Frank, Rose, and Nymphadora, who had been sorted into Ravenclaw - walked up the marble staircase to the Transfiguration classroom.

"Transfiguration is a simple task," Wellington said the minute the door had closed behind the last student. She tapped her desk and turned it into a pig, then turned it back into a desk. The entire class applauded enthusiastically. "Transfigure things. Change objects into other objects. Today, your objective is to turn a toothpick into a needle. The two objects are fairly similar, and the task set before you is very basic. Begin."

She waved her wand before the chalkboard and instructions appeared.

"_Acumite!_" Albus whispered, jabbing at the toothpick with his brand-new holly and unicorn hair wand. The toothpick merely rolled over a little.

"_Acumite!_" Lily called out clearly, making more of a tapping motion just above the toothpick. It immediately glimmered silver.

"Excellent, Miss Weasley. Ah, you've inherited your mother's brains, certainly…." Wellington gave an approving nod. "Ten points to Gryffindor."

"Don't fancy myself doing _too _well like you, Rose," Frank said, his face screwed up with determination as he scrutinized his toothpick. "Me, I just want to survive the first day of classes…."

Albus sighed. While he was in a classroom busying himself with such a useless chore, his father was out, in hiding….

* * *

"Understand, Lucius. Albus Severus Potter is the only person that Harry would drop everything for. Albus Potter is his father's greatest weakness."

"But why not his wife, my Lord? Or his eldest, James?"

"James does not take after his father like Albus does," Voldemort murmured. "No, it must be the middle child. The one that takes after Harry. Surely you've noticed, Lucius… out of the three children, only Albus has inherited Lily's eyes." Voldemort chuckled softly. "And the sentimentality of it all…. the boy has named his children after the most foolish people to ever live…."

"Surely, the wife, my Lord…"

"Ginevra Weasley is too powerful. And my sources…." Voldemort chuckled again. "My sources at St. Mungo's tell me that she is with child. Even Lord Voldemort takes pity on the unborn."

"Y-Yes, my Lord."

"It is better to take the helpless, Lucius, is it not? Albus Potter knows not any magic…. Has not even completed his first year of school. He is the one I want to take. We want Harry Potter in our clutches once more. He will pay for the destruction of my regime."

* * *

Harry came to suddenly, covered in cold sweat, in an unfamiliar, dark room. He was lying on a lumpy bed, draped with a white sheet - Ginny sat beside him.

"Where are we?" Harry demanded, attempting to sit up.

"You've splinched," Ginny murmured, pushing him back down. "I've sorted you out all right, but you'll have to rest for a few days."

"What time is it?"

"Nearly seven in the morning." Ginny rested on her husband's shoulder. "Hermione's making breakfast."

"Any word from Kingsley?"

"He says to stay where you are. Attempting to visit the Ministry will only endanger it - Romilda Vane is heading the Auror department in your stead," Ginny answered with a rueful smile.

"Romilda? Romilda _Vane_? That nutter who…"

"... attempted to drug you? Yes."

"And _she_… Didn't even know she was in the department."

"Just promoted to second-in-command, seeing as both you and Ron are unavailable at the moment. She's been working with you for the past four years."

Harry attempted to lift his arm, brush Ginny's hair out of her face - but a sharp pain shot up from his elbow. He glanced down to see an angry red wound, scabbed over, stretching from his upper arm down to his wrist.

"Don't be too upset. With brains like that…. She very nearly got you to fall in love with her." Ginny stood up, handing Harry a small goblet of green potion. "Can't say she isn't smart."

* * *

"I am Professor Theodore Nott. A first-year Potions class is where you will learn the basics of potion-making - the very basics. Only the simplest potions will be concocted…. I daresay your underdeveloped brains could handle much more than the most basic…."

"Doesn't beat around the bush, does he?" Frank muttered, nervously tapping a rhythm on his pewter cauldron.

"Can anyone tell me, where can a bezoar be found and what are its properties?"

Rose's hand shot up in the air. Nott's eyes skimmed over her.

"Yes, Miss Weasley?" Nott said finally, turning to look at her.

"A bezoar is a stone found in the stomach of a goat. It serves as an antidote to most poisons," Rose answered promptly.

"Correct." He walked away from her table, without rewarding any points. Rose looked slightly crestfallen.

"Today, we will be taking notes on the most common potion ingredients and their typical uses," Nott explained, flicking his wand at the chalkboard. Numbered lines appeared on the black surface. "Take out parchment and a quill - begin."

Albus hastily dipped his quill into a bottle of ink and began scrawling notes across his parchment. Rose, beside him, wrote each word carefully, as if they were being graded on penmanship. On his other side, Frank hastily jotted down several illegible words.

"Longbottom." Nott stopped short in front of Frank and peered down at his parchment. "Can you tell me what that's supposed to say?"

Frank swallowed stiffly. "Er - Basic Potion Ingredients… and…."

"Tell me, Longbottom." Nott swiftly wiped the parchment with a sweep of his wand. "If you can't read your own handwriting, how can you expect to study these for your theory examinations in a few weeks' time?"

Frank turned a delicate shade of pink as he set to copying the notes again, taking great care to form each letter.

"Much better." Nott swept past their table, sparing Rose's notes a quick nod.

"That bastard," Frank said bitterly, crumpling his quill in his haste to pack up and leave the classroom at the end of class. "Couldn't pick on anyone else, could he? I mean, did you _see _Malfoy's handwriting?"

"It's because of who your dad is," Rose said reassuringly. "I'm sure it's nothing personal."

"Right. And I'm a flobberworm."

The three traipsed down the marble staircase and on the fields to the Herbology greenhouses, where Neville awaited them with a broad grin.

"Frank! Albus! Rosie! That's the ticket," Neville said excitedly, clapping each of them on the back as they entered the greenhouse.

"Hello. I am Professor Neville Longbottom - I'll be teaching you the art of Herbology." Neville smiled around at the apprehensive first-years. "We'll start by studying the Devil's Snare…"

* * *

"Excellent, Lucius. Just what we want."

Lucius kneeled before the portrait, the fire crackling before him. "My Lord, I have received word that Harry Potter has gone into hiding, in Scotland."

"Very good." Voldemort casually stroked Nagini. "Now, all we need to do is lure Potter out of his hiding spot. And have you drawn up the plans to remove the son from school?"

"Yes, my Lord. I have contacted Theodore Nott - surely you remember him, Richard's son…"

"Of course I remember, Lucius," Voldemort interjected coolly. "He is the new Potions master, is he not?"

"Yes, yes, my Lord. He has agreed to assist us in our plan."

"I am impressed, Lucius." Voldemort smiled a rare smile. "And the Auror department?"

"I have succeeded in infiltrating the Ministry with Desmond Rookwood, Augustus's niece." Lucius avoided Voldemort's eyes, staring into the firelight. "She has succeeded in placing an Imperius Curse on Romilda Vane, the head of the Auror department in Potter's stead - Vane is now feeding the department information that I, and the rest of the Death Eaters, are in Romania."

"Excellent. Excellent." Voldemort fingered the yew wand that had been painted into his long, white hand. "Call the rest of them, won't you, Lucius?"

* * *

**A/N: Well, there it is. Hope you like the first chapter!**

**I noticed after publishing this story that I made an error - Teddy would be around 19 by the time Albus went to Hogwarts, meaning that Teddy would have left school by this time. Please bear with me - thank you!**


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